Do Blondes Have More Fun?

Blondie-x-Los-Rakas-I-Screwed-UpI believe it is a bad thing when you look at your senior portrait from high school, 10 years later, and your hair looks exactly the same. Same color. Same cut. It’s like no time has passed (especially if you graduated high school in the 80’s … get that shit fixed, there is no excuse). 

I’ve been yawning at my hair for a while now. It isn’t the cut, as I adore my stylist (hi Jenna!) She literally is the only human being capable of working a pair of scissors that I let do whatever she wants to me … and it is ALWAYS pure genius.

The color is what really has been boring me to pieces. I’ve been dark brown for a good amount of years now. I’ve had a few highlights added in here and there. I almost went black for a period of time (but since my wardrobe keeps getting less and less colorful I really had to pull back on that). I had that heinous red period that my friends and family now tell me, billions of years later, was a heinous mistake (thanks for the honesty, guys). And I was like a purple-ish red in college due to lack of funds and my obsession with the Feria box hair dye “chocolate cherry” (my 21st birthday pictures are a sheer disaster). 

And now I’m wondering … do blondes have more fun? I’m not saying I want to go Paris Hilton platinum blonde … nothing like that as I know first hand how fucking horrific it is to get your hair bleached. And even now, as an “adult” I don’t have the funds to keep up with that maintenance. 

Really my spirit animal throughout my blonde thought process has been Rachel McAdams’ hair in the new True Detective. For the past three years, I have been sitting by my window, creepily starring at ombre hair singing softly to myself, “hello … is it me you’re looking for?! I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in your smile. You’re all I ever wanted. And my arms are open wide. ‘Cause you know just what to say. And you know just what to do. And I want to tell you so much. I love you.” (I’m well aware that I’m a freak)

rachel-mcadams-on-the-set-of-true-detective-in-los-angeles-2702_1

It comes down to the fact that I don’t have the balls. Ombre hair mine as well be the hottest guy in school you never make eye contact with because you know your face will turn bright red and explode out of too many emotions swirling together. You want ombre. You’ve basically planned your wedding with ombre. But when push comes to shove and ombre comes over to ask you what time it is … you freeze up and pee yourself a little. 

Oh hair dye, why can’t you be easier to play with? Why can’t you be more like nail polish. If you hate the color, a little nail polish remover fixes everything. Whereas if you get your hair dyed something outside of your comfort zone (ombre), and it looks like shit you: A. have to spend a ton of money getting it fixed on top of the money you already spent. B. Risk insulting the hair stylist who just dyed your hair. and C. Damage the HELL out of your hair. Is it worth it? 

My fear is that another 10 years will pass, and the younger generation will look at me and be all, “wow she is so stuck in 2005.” I mean that statement alone makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and cry a little. I guess until I get my balls together, I will just continue staring out my window at ombre hair color, singing sad songs to myself. 

Sigh. Also, DAMN YOU, KARDASHIANS will your endless amounts of money and “glam squads” who can change up their hair every damn day. Damn you. Dammit! Damn. Damn. Damn.

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My Day With Ombre

Screen shot 2013-03-24 at 8.29.38 PMPerhaps it was boredom. Perhaps it was curiosity. Perhaps it was my desire taking over me to do something “edgy.” Who the hell knows. But L’Oreal’s Ombre in a box called to me … and yes friends, I answered.

Now I didn’t just go into Target, spot the product and say, “oh yeah … let’s fiddle with some bleach on my very processed, overly straightened hair.” No, absolutely not. Mama did her research. I watched the YouTube video reviews … which, gotta say … I kind of regret. 1. The girls are 85% super annoying, all focused on being Rachel Zoe and looking super maj in front of the camera and not focused on the important things like, oh I don’t know … how to use it perhaps (not all … but most). 2. They all put these fears in my head, like, “OMG her hair turned bleach blonde after 45 minutes, must not leave it on that long. Lesson Number 1 that I learned: Everyone has different hair. Just because the girl reviewing has long dark brown hair like you, doesn’t mean she is you. This was the best video I watched, which of course came straight from the L’Oreal source, because they show you how to apply the product properly. God knows if that is even a real hair stylist. They could have found a hobo on the street, glammed him up and gave him a French accent for all I know. Regardless, very informative, and very necessary before you apply.

Screen shot 2013-03-24 at 8.32.21 PMSo then it was time to take the plunge. There is something really exciting, fun and terrifying about dying your hair a new color that I love. Once the color was mixed, I dropped my first layer of hair down and applied the dye to the nifty little application brush (the black thing seen in the photo to the right), which rocks at first. But word to the wise, you HAVE to make sure you hair isn’t the slightest bit tangled, otherwise it will get ripped out, you’re been warned. The reason I wasn’t really down with the application brush is because I found you had to put a lot of dye on the brush, and by the time I got to my ends, I really had to brush hard to get all of the dye on your hair. The brush is deep so all the dye goes straight to the bottom, making it a bit tricky to get it all out. But Lesson Number 2 that I learned: Slow the eff down. I’m always in a mad rush to the next thing. And while dying my hair, it is like someone is threatening me with a knife telling me to get it done as fast as possible or I will get cut. I have this sick fear that if I don’t rush, some hair will be all sorts of different colors and I will have to spend the rest of the day in the fetal position crying, “WHY??!?!” (probably why I should leave it to the professionals, huh).

And then began the waiting game. The rules are you wait 25 minutes, and with Screen shot 2013-03-24 at 8.30.18 PMyour gloves, remove some of the dye from your ends to see if your hair is as light as you would like. If it isn’t, apply more and check it in 5 minutes … and continue for up to 45 minutes. Do you know how insane it is for a girl with dark brown hair to sit patiently as blonde starts invading the darkness? Umm hello? I paced, I ate Starbursts, I stared at myself in the mirror for waaaaay too long, I made shoe art and Instagrammed it, I texted people freaking out, I paced some more … I mean, the clock couldn’t move slower. So after 25 minutes, I checked … wait … oh right. The dye is extremely hard to remove with gloves to see if your hair is “light enough.” I don’t know what that hobo turned glam French stylist was thinking. But I could tell that the back of my hair was getting lighter than the front, so I said screw it and applied more. I waited 5 more minutes, checked again. Still nothing. Hmph. I applied more. Waited. And all the while, that YouTube chick danced in my head like, “OMG my hair definitely turned a bit lighter than expected … uuuhhh whoops,” with a devastated look on her face that I couldn’t shake. She had left it on for the full 45 minutes. When I got to 30 minutes, I dove head first into the shower. Aaaaaaaaaaand ::::fade to black:::

Screen shot 2013-03-24 at 8.30.44 PMI bet you are just DYING to know the results, right? Like so curious? Well … Lesson Number 3 that I learned: I will never be blonde. I think my hair repels it, to tell you the truth. I don’t have a drop of blonde on my head right now, but instead I have this like reddish, lighter brown ombre thing happening, which I don’t hate, but the part that kills me … no one has even noticed, hmph. I just wanted to be “edgy” DAMMIT! The experience was definitely, “MEH.” And man did it do a number to the ends of my hair. Even using the conditioning shampoo that it comes with, I have this scarecrow hair from the Wizard of Oz thing going on that I’m not too fond of. But that’s what you get for using any sort of bleach-product I suppose.

Any who am I regretting this decision immediately? No. Am I bummed that I got less than mediocre results? Hell yes. Would I recommend? Of course, refer back to Lesson Number 1. Listen, I would rather do an experiment for $8 than have a stylist do it for $100, ya dig? Now excuse me while I go make an appointment with my colorist so she can get me back to normal espresso brown … a thank you very much.

Ps. What is up with the chick’s hair on the ombre box? Seriously … they couldn’t find a better model with ombre hair? Because that ain’t cute, L’Oreal … no one in their right mind wants to look like that.